Chapter 1548: The Exercise

Having learned that lesson, as soon as the new dynasty was founded it sternly proclaimed that the gentry and great houses were absolutely forbidden to keep private slaves. The Crown Prince decided that no exception to this prohibition should be opened through the Mongols; otherwise, over time, no one would care even if Han people were kept as slaves.

"Your Highness, please set your mind at ease. We are men of loyalty and righteousness — how could we disregard the king's law? These children are being raised scattered among the army units. Once they come of age, they will be set to work, treated no differently from immigrants. If they serve the court or the Liaodong Army, they will all be paid wages. In this way we can both swell the immigrant population and develop Liaodong as quickly as possible, while also turning enemies into our own." Bi Su hastened to allay the Crown Prince's concerns. "Although these children bear blood feuds, they have been raised by our army since childhood and have seen and heard nothing but our army's might. They will not, and dare not, harbor resentment toward our dynasty… In ten or twenty years, they will simply be Han."

"Will it truly be so?" The Crown Prince found it somewhat hard to believe.

"Children are the most fickle, and the barbarians, moreover, know nothing of loyalty or righteousness. Even a deep hatred will not stay fixed in their hearts. Besides, with the Great Han's national power and military prestige so flourishing, even if they did hate us they would have no chance to take revenge. Once they are grown, with families and livelihoods, that hatred will fade even further. When the Mongols slaughter one another, this is exactly how they treat the other side, and the tribes use it to grow stronger. Our army is merely doing the same." Bi Su smiled faintly. "Your Highness, in the past our army seized many children from the Jurchen tribes of Liaodong. Some of them have now grown up. They live, farm, and work according to Han customs, and now you cannot tell them apart from any Han."

He spoke lightly, but in reality it was of course not so simple. In truth, the Liaodong Army kept a guard against such people: besides surveillance, they were forbidden to live in concentrated communities. The plan was to assimilate them over one or two generations — they absolutely dared not let down their guard.

"So that is how it is!" The Crown Prince, failing to catch the hidden implications in his words, quickly accepted this explanation and felt much relieved. "All you officers and soldiers, keep up the good work!"

He was the Crown Prince of the Great Han, not the Crown Prince of the Mongols, and he had no intention of looking into it any further. In his lessons, he had heard about how the Spanish conquered the Americas and gathered immigrants to populate the land, and he felt that the Great Han, in opening new territory, had already been far gentler than the Spanish — no damage to its good name.

Bi Su breathed a sigh of relief and watched the Crown Prince depart.

Under the gaze of all the assembled officers and soldiers, the Crown Prince awarded medals to the others one by one. Each time he passed a man, the military musicians would mark it with a flourish of drums, and the soldiers' spirits rose ever higher with it. Every man was both envious and eager, itching to win a medal for himself.

These medals served not only to boost morale — they were also proof of recorded merit. When each medal was issued, a dedicated clerk would record the honors the recipient then held. When soldiers and officers returned home, these honors could earn them a larger land grant, so nearly everyone scrambled for them.

Only one man remained in the ranks. The Crown Prince walked slowly forward and at last came to a stop before Zhao Song, who had been standing tall and silent the whole time. He, too, wore a brand-new uniform, his face as still as water.

The Crown Prince stood solemnly before him, then took a large silver medal from the tray at his side. Under the eyes of the entire army, he slowly pinned this First Class Silver Orchid Medal onto Zhao Song's chest.

"Brigade Commander Zhao, keep up the good work," the Crown Prince said to him, in a tone that held a measure of distance within its courtesy.

Although by generational seniority Zhao Song counted as a paternal cousin-uncle, the Crown Prince could not treat him the way he treated Chen Sheng — as a respected uncle and elder. Moreover, Zhao Song would next be going to conquer Japan as a commanding general, which in theory made him a "colleague" of the Crown Prince, who would be holding the rear. He therefore had no choice but to treat Zhao Song with this polite but distant manner.

"Many thanks, Your Highness! Many thanks for His Majesty's boundless grace!" Unlike the Crown Prince's formality, Zhao Song was deeply stirred. He raised his head, puffed out his chest, and loudly gave thanks to the Crown Prince and the Emperor.

After the Crown Prince had awarded the medal to Zhao Song, the officers and soldiers of the entire formation burst into cheers at the same moment. Zhao Song was their old brigade commander, a man who always led from the front in battle and treated his subordinate officers and men very well, and so he commanded immense prestige within the unit. Everyone cheered and leaped with joy that he had received such an honor, and even men from other units were cheering and acclaiming him.

Amid this tidal wave of cheers, despite his naturally steady temperament, Zhao Song could not help feeling a little light-headed with pride.

For his many years of meritorious service, he had previously already received a Second Class Silver Orchid Medal. When he was transferred back to the capital, word had been circulating throughout the army that he would be promoted, and he himself had guessed that he would be given greater responsibilities — but he had never imagined he would be assigned such a post, nor that this First Class Silver Orchid Medal would be awarded to him here in Liaodong. Fate was indeed hard to predict.

The First Class Silver Orchid Medal was extremely rarely issued within the Great Han army. To receive this order of merit essentially meant becoming a theater commander, just one step away from marshal — and becoming a marshal was the greatest dream of Zhao Song's life.

He gently stroked the medal on his chest. The smooth silver surface left a strange sensation on his hand — and stirred up his memories. He recalled the hardships of his early years.

That kid back then — how could he ever have imagined that a dozen or so years later he would rise to the highest ranks of officialdom, becoming one of the top few generals in an army of several hundred thousand? If he could then retire with honor with the rank of marshal, what regret would this life hold!

After the medal-awarding ceremony ended, the assembled officers and soldiers had been worked up to the highest pitch.

They did not disperse. Under their officers' orders, the ranks were broken up and reformed, quickly reorganizing by regiment into several large clusters, while the cavalry and artillery also regrouped at different points under command.

For a time the great army shifted in place, each unit moving on its own — chaos shot through with order, a murderous aura rising amid the glint of steel and the stamp of warhorses.

Zhao Song wanted to select a direct-attached regiment from his old brigade for the campaign against Japan. After consulting with the Liaodong Army high command, he decided to have the brigade's three regiments compete during the exercise and pick the one that performed best as his direct-attached regiment.

Of course they did not tell the rank and file this plainly. They merely said that the Crown Prince was present in person today to observe the exercise and that they should put on a good show — a reason persuasive enough. To win a favorable impression before His Highness, every unit was itching for a fight, each determined to outdo the others and earn a word of praise from the Crown Prince's own lips.

The Crown Prince, meanwhile, together with Chen Sheng and the other senior Liaodong Army officers, rode back and forth along the edge of the prearranged battlefield, observing the exercise. Zhao Song, leading several of his trusted staff officers, directed the various units while also assessing their relative merits.

In his usual studies, to build up his physique and cultivate the most basic military knowledge, the Crown Prince not only studied military texts but also practiced riding and marksmanship. So while his horsemanship could not compare with that of a professional cavalryman, it was more than adequate for this sort of thing.

It was now approaching noon. Under the Crown Prince's gaze, unit after unit advanced and retreated at the sound of the bugles. Guided by soldiers carrying banners, thousands upon thousands of men moved back and forth beneath the clear sky. The fiery red uniforms blazed across the earth, a spectacle so stunning it seemed to seize the soul.

Every commander was shouting at the top of his lungs, but by the time their voices converged and reached the Crown Prince's ears they had become as dense and unintelligible as the drone of cicadas. Each waved his sword to drive the soldiers on, and rank after rank shifted ceaselessly at their cries. Red uniforms, green grass, and the gray-brown earth — every color blended before his eyes, like painting after painting.

Soon, the initial excitement in every officer and soldier had faded. They threw themselves into the exercise as if facing a great foe, treating it as real combat. Zhao Song encouraged this mindset. He rode everywhere, shouting at the units he saw, issuing different orders, driving them forward or pulling them back. Wherever he went, he drew cheers. The First Class Silver Orchid Medal he had just received, worn on his chest, glittered against his red uniform as if it could mesmerize onlookers.

After the formations had rapidly adjusted into their respective battle arrays, at Zhao Song's command, the various square formations began firing at one another — with blank rounds, of course, no live ammunition. Still, this was enough to show whether each unit was steady and composed, and whether their firearms and other weapons were properly maintained.

Then the cannons began to roar. Unlike the earlier salute, this time the bombardment from the prearranged positions was far more concentrated. The whole earth trembled. After the cannons had thundered for a while, armored cavalry burst from their positions by the tree line and swept toward the army like a surging flood, raking across the entire army's position from the flank.

The dust kicked up by the army's advance, combined with the smoke belched by the guns and cannons, soon shrouded the entire exercise ground in a haze, as if a layer of yellow gauze had been draped over it. Everything within blurred, the colors seeming to bleed together.

Yet thanks to their daily hard drilling, every branch of the great army advanced and retreated with excellent order. It not only possessed the grim lethality unique to soldiers — it was even a pleasure to behold.

"How formidable!" The Crown Prince could not help exclaiming in praise. "An army this strong, that moves as if it were the general's own limbs — no wonder it could sweep across the north!"

"It looks splendid, but in real battle it is never so simple. It is a hundred times crueler than this, and you can forget about keeping your formations this pretty," Marshal Chen Sheng beside him replied with considerable coolness. "Daily drill can only build habit — it teaches the soldiers to obey orders and to know how to hold formation. Once they are on the battlefield, it still comes down to guts. A soldier without courage is useless no matter how good he looks in training."